


Paper and Watches

by acercrea



Series: Art and Mats [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M, Fisrt Anniversary, Fluff, Paper and Clocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acercrea/pseuds/acercrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get the man who can buy himself anything he could ever want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper and Watches

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I started to write the next request on my list which was a Mats smut, but I got something very different. To the person who requested it, the smut will be next and it will be a standalone but will take place in this mini universe with the same main pair. I was going to tack the smut on the end, but this wound up being too innocent to do that and it would have felt forced. I am posting this first because I wrote it basically all of it before realizing that, and this will make the smut make more sense. Just read and you will see what I mean.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, this is just for fun.

Mats Hummels is sexy. Everyone with working eyes just rolled them at me, but it is true. His chiseled jawline, abs for days, the most magnificent back you have ever seen. That amazingly cocky grin that makes you want to simultaneously slap his face and jump his bones. Add in the fact that he practically oozes confidence out of every pore and you have a very solid argument for Mats Hummels being one of the sexiest men on the planet.

One of my favorite things to do is to grab my sketch book and try to draw him really quickly in random moments without him noticing. I have hundreds of sketches of him curled up in the living room with a book, or with an apron on in the kitchen stirring a pot of what he calls his Famous Pasta Sauce; at the table on Sunday mornings as he is doing the crossword puzzle and eating toast while he thinks I am drawing a bird on the balcony or the flowers on the table. But more than half of them are from mornings I woke up first and rolled over to discover the physical embodiment of a Greek god lying next to me.

All different, of course, but all trying to capture things that I see in him that most people don’t get to see. The look of concentration that sets in his brow when he is reading something he finds fascinating, that moment of delight when he tastes his sauce and it is perfect, that moment of accomplishment when he finishes the crossword that is so different than the one when he scores a goal or the team wins a match. The carefree way he sprawls his arms and legs out when he sleeps. All of these are intensely private and uniquely mine.

Our anniversary was coming up and I had been having a hard time coming up with ideas until I went out to lunch with Simone and Jessica.

“I have no idea what to get Mats for our anniversary. Obviously I want it to be something special, but I also want it to be something he would actually want. What do you get a man who can literally buy himself anything he wants?” I groaned, stirring my tea forlornly.

“You are kidding, right? First anniversary is the paper anniversary, and you are an incredible artist. Make him something,” Simone suggested.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, playing dumb.

“I have seen you sketching in that book of yours when you think no one is looking. Bind some of your favorite sketches of him and give them to him,” Simone replied.

“Ok, how about a serious suggestion now,” I encouraged.

“No, she is right, it is perfect. It is not something he can buy himself, it fits with the first anniversary theme, it is personal, and we have seen the sketches you did at the Christmas party of the team dressed as elves. And if you don’t have any sketches of Mats ready to go, you have more than enough time to make some to fill a display portfolio,” Jessica answered.

“But it isn’t too cheesy?” I asked.

“No, it is super cheesy. Which is how we know Mats is going to love it,” Jessica responded.

In the end I realized that this was actually a pretty good idea and even found a nice black portfolio that tied with a yellow ribbon on the side. I painstakingly picked out the best sketches and touched up things I wasn’t satisfied with or completely recreated them if I couldn’t quite get them right.

My plan was to give it to him first thing in the morning, so I put it in my bedside table the night before. I woke up first so I decided to touch up a couple of pages I hadn’t finished yet when Mats had come home early the day before.

I was so caught up that I jumped when he spoke in that husky way he does first thing in the morning, “I thought we agreed after the charcoal incident that you wouldn’t sketch in bed.”

“No, you agreed, I just haven’t been caught yet,” I replied cheekily.

“Someone is saucy this morning. What is so important you are working on it on our anniversary?” he asked, scooting closer.

“Oh, nothing. Just your present,” I responded as evenly as I could.

“Really? Well then can I see it?” he asked, flashing me the patented ‘I’m Mats Hummels, I can make any woman and tons of men do anything I want if I smile like this’ grin.

“I suppose, it is yours after all. But you didn’t ask very nicely, so you are going to have to prove to me that you really want it,” I replied, holding the portfolio as far away from him as I could.

“And how might I do that?” he asked, shifting in the bed so he was lying on top of me, his lips a hairs breath from mine, his weight supported on his elbows.

“You seem to be on the right track, but I am just not sure you have convinced me yet,” I responded, waiting for him to seal his lips to mine.

“You are forgetting one thing,” he whispered moving his mouth to my ear. “I have much longer arms than you do.”

He suddenly snatched the book from my hand and rolled away from me, opening the book as he went. I was too worried about inadvertently ripping one of the pages so I didn’t fight to get it back, so instead I grumbled in frustration and watched as he flipped through the pages slowly.

He was so quiet as he leafed through the book that I started to get nervous that he didn’t like it. After about 5 minutes I started to babble, “So I was kind of freaking out about what to get you, because what do you get the guy who either has or can buy anything he wants, but then I had lunch with Jessica and Simone and Simone mentioned that the first anniversary is the paper anniversary, so I should make you a book with sketches, because they saw the sketches I did for the Christmas party and they thought that those were good, and this is definitely something that you can’t get yourself at a store, so it is perfect and I am kind of freaking out because you aren’t saying anything, so can you please tell me you love it or something?”

“I love it,” Mats complied.

“Ok, you don’t have to say that because I told you too, I know I asked you to, so if that is not how you really feel that is ok,” I started to ramble again, but Mats cut me off with a hard kiss on the lips.

When he pulled away he rested his forehead on mine and looked in my eyes as he said, “I love it. No one has ever given me something that means as much as this gift does. It is the best gift I have ever gotten. You see all the little things that I hope no one notices about me and you have made them all things to be proud of. Is this really how you see me?”

“Of course it is,” I replied, bringing my hand up to cup his face. “What did you think I have been drawing all these months?”

“I don’t know, trees, flowers, animals, stuff like that,” he shrugged.

“Ok, I know I do my best to sketch you without you noticing, but I didn’t think I had succeeded quite so well,” I chuckled, relief coursing through me as it sank in that he liked his gift.

“Well, that cat is out of the bag now. Next time I see you reaching for your sketch book at the breakfast table I am going to know what you are up to. Suddenly my gift for you seems inadequate, but here it is anyway,” Mats shrugged, pulling a box out of the drawer on his bedside table.

I opened the box and discovered a delicate looking silver watch. “Oh Mats,” I breathed as took in the old looking timepiece.

“It was my grandmothers. She got it as a gift from my grandfather while they were courting, just before he left for the war. It matches the pocket watch I wear on special occasions. My grandfather told her that it was a sign of their commitment to each other while they were apart. That it would keep a piece of them together while they were apart. Before she died she told me that I should give it to someone special,” Mats told me as I stared at the antique.

“It is too much,” I whispered, suddenly overcome with emotion.

“It is mine to give, and I have decided that I want you to have it. I love you and believe it or not I had a hard time finding a gift for you, too. Of all the girls I have dated, you are the only one I am convinced would still be with me if I were some guy flipping burgers to pay the rent while I played for some crappy little no league team. That makes you special in my eyes,” he responded, taking the watch from its delicate nest of velvet and fastening it to my wrist.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much,” I told him, happy tears running down my cheeks.

“Thank you for seeing the real me,” he replied, bringing his face back to mine and touching my lips gently with his as he wiped my tears with his thumbs.

“I have one question about the book,” he continued when we pulled away a few minutes later.

“What is that?” I asked apprehensively.

“Why are there blank pages at the end?” he inquired.

“Well, I was hoping to fill it up as we went along,” I replied with a shrug.

“There is only one problem with that,” he noted.

“What is that?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

“There are only a handful of pages left. What happens when we fill it up?” he questioned.

“Well when that happens, I will just get a new one,” I replied simply, basking in the glow of the warm chuckle that was his only response. I would fill as many books as this amazing man wanted me to.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So that is sometimes what happens when I try to write smut. I get fluff. I promise the next one shot I post will be the smutty payoff, sorry for the tease. Let me know what you think and anon or not if you want to request a fic just let me know. Thanks for reading!


End file.
